


late arrivals

by jdphoenix



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Episode: s03e03 A Wanted (Inhu)man, F/M, Minor Leo Fitz/Jemma Simmons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-14
Updated: 2020-04-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:00:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23657251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jdphoenix/pseuds/jdphoenix
Summary: As if Jemma's date with Fitz weren't going poorly enough, an unexpected (and unwanted) guest drops by.
Relationships: Will Daniels/Jemma Simmons
Comments: 3
Kudos: 12





	late arrivals

After Jemma’s cried herself out, Fitz moves his chair back to his side of the table. He had the good sense to give her her napkin as a handkerchief when her blubbering got to be too much; she crumples it now and tries to hide it behind the wine, where she won’t immediately see it and be reminded—though the wine will do that quite well on its own, she thinks.

Fitz catches her hand. “We don’t have to stay.”

He’s so good, so kind, so much more than she deserves. He went to all this trouble just for her and here she is, planning to run to the lab and the monolith remains the second they’re done here-

She closes her eyes to cut off those thoughts right there. They’ll only make her start again and Fitz deserves better than that. 

He squeezes her hand, so ready to be there with whatever she needs, regardless of his own feelings. She tells herself it’s for his sake and not due to her own cowardice that she forces a smile and shakes her head and says, “I think my days of skipping meals are over. My stomach would never forgive me.”

Her joke falls flat. Fitz has never felt real hunger, the kind that sends someone into certain death simply for the chance at a bite to eat, and as such can only see the tragedy in it, not the humor that makes it survivable.

And oh dear, now there are tears in his eyes. Perhaps she should have let him take her back to the Playground.

She squirms, hoping that itch she’s feeling like eyes are watching means their server is about to return and interrupt before this can become more awkward. She wishes she could look about for him, perhaps signal him down, but Fitz is staring at her so intensely it seems wrong to turn away.

“I’m so sorry,” he says. He holds her hand in both of his. “I should have figured it out faster, I-”

The waiter’s coming, just as she’d hoped, she can see him out of the corner of her eye. But she can’t let that go. Of all the lies she’s let Fitz believe, this one at least she can clear up right now. She opens her mouth to tell him there’s no way he could have known, that even if he had, likely the portal would have been too far away for her to even see the flare, but before she can an all too familiar voice speaks over them.

“Well, isn’t this cozy.” Ward’s eyes settle on her, heavy and knowing. “I never took you for being fickle. I had thought that generalization regarding your sex was misogynist lies, but perhaps I was wrong.”

“No,” she breathes.

“Ward,” Fitz says.

Jemma can see his indecision, but she can’t tear her eyes off the figure in front of her.

“Whatever you want,” Fitz goes on, desperation in his voice, “just- just tell me what it is and we’ll work it out. You can let Jemma go, she doesn’t-”

“That won’t be possible, I’m afraid. Jemma is why I’m here. I’ve traveled so very far, just to see you.”

“No,” she says again. Pleads, really. She can’t help it.

Again she closes her eyes, hoping to quiet her mind, only this time it’s in a frantic hope that by doing so she’ll wake herself up. This can’t be real. _It_ can’t be real. The monolith is gone. There’s no way.

A cold fear wriggles its way into the back of her mind: if this is a dream, then how much has been? The restaurant? The Playground? Is she even on Earth at all?

“Yes, Jemma,” It says. “You are on Earth, as am I. You have nothing to fear-”

“Don’t you touch her!”

Jemma opens her eyes in time to see Fitz drive a knife into Its eye. The creature stumbles back, but only so far as having an irate Scotsman fall on him forces him to. It tilts its head, blinking its one good eye several times, no doubt trying to focus as it reaches up to remove the knife. It has to use its other hand to hold the eye in place and, once the knife is free, the wound heals over as if it never was.

“That,” It says after an experimental blink or two, “was rude.”

“Wha- what-” Fitz stumbles, knocking the table on the way back to his seat and setting the tableware to rattling. “You’re an Inhuman.”

“I am,” It says and turns its attention back to Jemma.

“How-” she asks, as much at a loss for words as Fitz.

It smirks, frightfully like Ward. _It’ll do anything to fool you._

“You weren’t the only ones starving on Maveth.” It takes in a deep breath as if savoring the very air. “But here there is food aplenty. I am quite myself again.”

“Funny,” she says, “you look more like Ward to me.”

“Jemma,” Fitz says. He’s finally starting to understand that he’s missing some integral part of what’s happening here. But she has no time to explain it to him.

“That’s not what I meant,” she says. “How are you _here_? The monolith was destroyed. If you could follow me back…” She can’t say it. If she does and she’s wrong, losing her hope again – it would be too much.

It smiles. “Ah, so you’re not as heartless as I feared.” Its eyes cut to Fitz. “Unless you’re only fearful of having your happily ever after with this one ruined.”

It barely finishes before she’s on her feet, her hand smarting from the slap she delivered.

“Don’t. You. Dare.” She won’t have her feelings questioned by this _monster_.

She braces herself, expecting it to attack her in kind, but it only reaches into its jacket and pulls out a cell phone.

“All those years, you were always one of my favorites, Jemma. I am relieved to know your love is true. As I’m sure he will be.” After a few taps, It holds out the phone to her.

There is nothing that would entice her to take _anything_ from this creature. Nothing except for what it shows her. She barely recognizes him at first. His uniform is gone and he looks so small and frail in a hospital bed, hooked up to dozens of machines. But he glares at the camera with a determination that she’d know anywhere.

It’s Will.

She drops to her chair, cradling the phone like it’s Will himself.

“I would never leave him behind,” It says and not even the slight edge it puts on those words can hurt her when she’s looking at Will. “He’s quite well,” It goes on, circling her now to look for itself. “The best doctors money can buy are tending to him. He has food and running water and sunlight. He only wants for one thing.”

She doesn’t have to ask what that is. And doesn’t bother about the doctors or the money. They’re all secondary. “What do you want?”

It takes the phone from her hand. “I have a great many resources at my disposal, but none of them are you.”

“No!” Fitz yells. The tableware rattles again, but he doesn’t come to his feet.

“ _Only_ you,” It adds with a disdainful look at him. “I require your assistance.”

“To do what?” Jemma asks. Truthfully she doesn’t care, her decision is made. She’ll give this thing whatever it wants, so long as it takes her to Will. She won’t risk his life, no matter the cost. So if there’s to be any chance of stopping It, it will be up to SHIELD and she knows Fitz is paying rapt attention, trying to make sense of all this.

“To save the world,” It says benevolently. After allowing the words to sink in, it steps to one side, offering her its arm.

“ _Jemma_ ,” Fitz snaps.

“You won’t hurt Fitz?” Jemma asks, unable to meet his eyes. “You’ll let him go?”

Fitz reaches around the table to grab her hand, holding it tight between his. “I am _not_ letting you go again. Especially not with- with _him_ , whether he’s Ward or not.”

She sighs. There’s so much to tell him and the necessity of this moment doesn’t make it any easier.

She looks up at It. It nods, as if it were a king granting a humble peasant’s request. “As I said, I only want you. Besides, it would be cruel to turn your hope to doom so quickly.”

She flinches, more from its words than the fingers that brush her jaw. It doesn’t matter if it knows what she was thinking. She trusts Fitz and her friends. They’ll find a way to stop whatever It’s planning.

“Fitz, I-” The look on his face steals her breath. She’s seen it before. When he came into the lab carrying the Chitauri helmet and exposing himself to a deadly virus. When he pushed their only tank of oxygen into her hands and told her what she meant to him. She imagines that the others saw this look frequently while she was away.

He’ll die before he lets her go.

She squeezes his fingers but doesn’t reach out with her free hand; he would only take it as a sign she’s staying anyway. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before,” she says, “but I wasn’t alone on Maveth. I left someone behind, someone I-” She blinks back tears. “And now I have to go to him.”

A _no_ begins to form on his lips but she knows it will only be a moment before his shock and confusion clear and that expression she hates so much returns; she doesn’t want that to be the last she sees of him.

Beneath the table, she squeezes the trigger of her ICER, sending a dendrotoxin round straight into his gut and knocking him out instantly.

She untangles their fingers and pats his hand on the tabletop. “Goodbye, Fitz.”

The ICER she tucks back into her purse before shouldering it and joining the creature where it still stands, waiting. It drops its gaze to her purse in question.

“I’m not going to shoot you before I see Will,” she says dryly.

It takes her arm and she can’t suppress a shiver. “Truthfully, it won’t do you much good regardless. I’m quite immune to such attacks.”

Yes, she assumed as much from its quick healing. Likely its body processes the neurotoxin quickly enough it has little to no effect.

It leads her to the kitchen door rather than out the front and she pauses before they go through, taking one last look back at Fitz.

“You promise he’s safe here?”

“This body still bears fond memories of him. It would pain me to see him come to harm needlessly.”

Little as she believes Ward has (or had? is there a chance he’s still alive in there?) fond memories of _anyone_ , It’s given her no reason to believe it will hurt Fitz. It barely acknowledged him all through their conversation, even when he tried to kill it.

“You may call your team to retrieve him if you like,” It offers.

He’ll have a lot to tell them when he wakes up and if he doesn’t have time to work through what just happened, he’ll only frustrate himself with half-answers and incomplete thoughts. And she won’t be there to help him.

“No. Let him sleep.” She turns her back on him to face the creature that haunts her worst nightmares. “Take me to Will.”


End file.
